Show Me Yours
by MyImmortal329
Summary: Carol and Daryl play a little drinking game in the Alexandria Safe Zone and get to know each other a whole lot better.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything from The Walking Dead. At all. Nothing.

Author's Note: Prompted by TheWalkingCaryl. Prompt: "1992 was a horrible year." And all I can say about this is that…well, it's probably the fluffiest, most fun piece I've written yet. I just kind of went with it. ;)

Summary: A drinking game in the Alexandria Safe Zone leads to some unexpected revelations. Smut, porn without plot, fluff, romance, just plain old fun. Rated E for sexy stuff and thangs.

Show Me Yours

"Show me yours, and I'll show you mine."

"Pfft, you already seen mine. But I ain't seen yours."

"Oh, you're just not trying hard enough, Pookie."

"Stop."

"I believe it's your drink."

"Where you puttin' all that liquor, woman?"

"A lady never tells her secrets." Carol gently ran her finger along the side of the small alcohol bottle as she leaned back against the garage door of the house they were currently hiding out in. She hiccupped and giggled loudly.

"Quiet. You want 'em to hear you?"

"I'm not afraid of them," she scoffed, leaning back, her head banging against the door. "Ow!" She rubbed the back of her head, and Daryl snorted.

"You're drunk," he chuckled.

"You're drunker," she pointed out. He nodded his concession. "But it's your turn. Drink up, Dixon."

"What game were we playing anyway?"

"I don't remember," she laughed. "But you were about to show me yours."

"Oh. That," he muttered. "You really wanna see it?"

"Yeah, I really do," she said with a teasing tone in her voice.

"Alright, fine," he muttered, lifting the side of his shirt to show her the perfectly white, round scar from where he'd been shot with an arrow while searching for Sophia. She gasped softly, her hand reaching out. Her gaze met his, and he gave her a little nod, silently giving her permission to touch him. Her finger grazed over the skin. "Can't feel it." Her hand moved around his side, feeling for the entrance scar. He startled as her fingers grazed over a longer, more defined scar. She pulled her hand away.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she murmured, moving back to lean against the garage door.

"We all got scars," he said with a shrug.

"I know," she murmured, taking another drink from her bottle. "Some of them we'd just rather forget about. Hide them from the rest of the world." She bit her lip for a moment before raising her pant leg a little bit, revealing a small scar on her ankle. Daryl leaned forward, eyeing it.

"S'that from?"

"1992. Skiing in Aspen."

"You went to Aspen?" he snorted. Carol made a face.

"Hey, I went with friends. It happens to be where I met Ed." She shrugged her shoulders. "1992 was a horrible year." She saw the ghost of his past wash over his face, as he leaned against the big stack of boxes in the corner.

"1992. Hell, I don't remember 1992." He took another drink, thinking for a minute. "I drove a Ford Tempo." Carol nearly spat out her drink, covering her mouth with her hand. "Hey, it was a ride. Good on gas, too." He smirked. "That's the year I met Shirley."

"Shirley?" Carol asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "Do I sense a hint of romance in your voice, Daryl Dixon?" Her face was flushed red from the alcohol and the sudden closeness she felt to him as he began to open up to her. The room seemed to be closing in on them.

"She was Merle's girl," Daryl said with a snort. "But he thought he was doin' me a favor by havin' her come to my room one night."

"Oh God," Carol sputtered, wiping her mouth as she choked on her drink. "You didn't."

"Fuck no," he grunted. "I was a total shit back then. Didn't listen to nobody, not even Merle. He thought all I needed was to get laid, and I'd be alright."

"You were a virgin?"

He muttered something inaudible, and Carol cocked one eyebrow up.

"Daryl," she prodded, "c'mon. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"You first," he said, waving a hand toward her. Carol rolled her eyes but took another swig on her tequila.

"I was 22 when I lost my virginity," she pointed out. "My college boyfriend thought it would be totally romantic to get a hotel room with one of those vibrating beds and order room service of champagne and strawberries."

"Nice."

"Nice? The bed was broken. He put the quarters in, and the thing jumped around like it was in the back of a pickup! And my boyfriend had so much to drink he lasted all of a minute and then rolled off of me _thanking_ me for the sex. He _thanked_ me, Daryl."

"God," Daryl laughed.

"And then I met Ed, and he was worse. He was all about himself. Just get in, do the job and get out. Do you realize I didn't have one orgasm the entire first year of our marriage?" She saw Daryl's face turn bright red, and she leaned her head back against the garage door. "I didn't just say that, did I? Shit. This is why I don't drink. I'm a chatty drunk." She laughed, and Daryl's lips slowly curled into a smile. "What?"

"I was twenty eight."

"What?"

"Twenty eight."

"When you lost your…what? Seriously?"

"Hey, it ain't no big deal."

"No, it's…I mean, but it's you," Carol pointed out. "You're…"

"What?"

"Well…hot," Carol sputtered. Daryl's face turned an even brighter shade of red. "I mean, look at you. You're strong and…"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.

"No!" she insisted, completely losing all control on her inhibitions as she crawled over toward him. "I'm just surprised. The girl you were with must have been pretty special." He shrugged.

"Not really. Was just an accident how it happened. Wasn't much better'n your first time. Never saw her again, neither. She was gone in the mornin'."

"Oh," Carol said with a sad frown. "Your first time, and she leaves? I'm sorry, Daryl."

"Weren't your fault. 'Sides, she wasn't the last." Carol felt a stirring deep down, and she swallowed hard, licking her lips as she moved to sit next to him.

"You think they're still out there?" she asked after a few moments.

"I hope not."

"Wanna chance it?"

"Guess we better if we wanna get home." Daryl stood and held his hand out to Carol, helping her up. They both tottered for a moment, and Carol giggled as she gripped Daryl's forearms to keep herself standing. Holding each other up, they headed for the door that lead into the house. It was dark, and as they moved into the kitchen to peek out the window into the next back yard to find it dark and empty. The party was over. Deanna had hosted a big block party for the whole safe zone. Neither Daryl nor Carol had been particularly in socializing moods, despite Carol's strong efforts to blend in and get to know the rest of the safe zone survivors. Tonight, Daryl had pocketed some of the booze and snuck off to hide, being trailed closely by Carol, who had no desire to mingle with anybody but him tonight. Now, it was quiet, and it seemed everybody had gone off to their respective homes.

"Thank God," Carol murmured. "Come on."

They snuck out through the back door and followed the fences until they found the backyard of the house they shared with Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Glenn and Maggie. After the first week, the group had relaxed a bit had split up into two households, and it had been an unspoken agreement that wherever Carol stayed, Daryl stayed and vice versa.

They snuck up onto the back porch to see the warm glow from the refrigerator light filling the kitchen. Carl Grimes stood there in a pair of Superman pajama pants and a white t-shirt, drinking out of the pitcher of orange juice.

"I knew it!" Carol hissed. "Rick needs to teach that boy some manners."

"Constable Grimes has other things to worry 'bout, like checkin' out Jessie's ass in those tight jeans she wears."

"Oh, somebody else has been checking out Jessie's ass too, I see," Carol murmured, giving Daryl's shoulder a nudge.

"Hey, it's there. I notice. Ain't as nice as yours though."

"Stop," Carol giggled, as Carl closed the refrigerator door and walked sleepily through the kitchen, bumping into the table before disappearing out of the room. "All clear."

They slipped through the door, making certain to be as silent as they could be before heading down the hall and into the living room. Carol was the first to collapse on the couch, and Daryl plopped down at her side.

"I'm thirsty," she murmured.

"Think you had enough to drink already," Daryl pointed out. She nudged his knee with her foot, and he caught it in his hand. He snorted, looking down at the flowery canvas shoes she wore. It went well with her old lady sweater and her khaki pants.

"What?"

"You still look ridiculous," he muttered. Carol snorted at that, and he removed her shoe, tossing it over the couch. It thudded on the floor, and he did the same with her other. She wiggled her toes, and he grabbed her feet in his hands, rubbing them slowly.

She stretched out on the couch, arching her back for a moment, getting comfortable. When her gaze found his eyes again, she saw he was staring a little south of her face.

"You have something else to say about my lovely sweater?" she asked, nudging his side with her toes. He gripped her foot, kneading it in his hands.

"Yeah, you oughta take it off." His cheeks blushed furiously at the way he'd just blurted it out, and Carol snorted.

"Well, I thought you'd never ask." She sat up, pulling the sweater off of her body, revealing a lacy black bra underneath. Daryl nearly choked at the sight, his eyes following the way her breasts swayed as she pulled herself up, swinging her legs out of his grasp and curling them beneath her. She leaned forward, her lips just a breath apart from his.

"You're drunk," he muttered.

"Not that drunk," she teased. Daryl felt a tightening in his groin, as Carol leaned closer, and he shifted uncomfortably. "What's wrong?"

"This ain't…you…" He struggled for the words. He motioned toward the grandma sweater on the floor. "Neither is that."

"Maybe _this_ is me," she pouted, trailing one finger down his neck, hooking it into the neck of his shirt, while her other hand moved to cup the bulge in his jeans. He sucked in a sharp breath as she gave him a squeeze. "Maybe I'm getting tired of playing everybody's den mother for these people. Maybe I just need to escape."

"Fuck," he grunted, his pants unbearably tight now as she moved to straddle his lap. "Carol…what are you…"

"Tell me to stop."

"You ain't thinkin'…"

"I'm thinking," she breathed, leaning into him, the soapy, sweet scent of her skin intoxicating him even more than he already was. "I'm thinking that it's been a really, _really_ long time…" She pressed her lips against his, and he groaned, opening up to the kiss, feeling the way her warm, wet tongue slid past his lips and brushed against his tongue. His body trembled, and with all of the strength he could muster, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back.

She slowly dragged her eyes open, peering at him with more desire than he'd ever seen directed at him by a woman. It was all he could do to keep his hands from wandering, from pulling her closer to him, from acting on what every impulse in his body wanted him to do.

"I'm not gonna regret this in the morning," she promised, her hand gently stroking his cheek. "I want you. And I think you want me too." Her gaze dragged down to the bulge in his pants, and she licked her lips. "So why fight it?"

Daryl's hands gently moved down her arms, and his head fell against the back of the couch as she pressed into him, her hands roving down his chest and sneaking up his shirt to graze over his stomach. Daryl moaned as Carol pressed her lips against his neck, suckling gently. His hand moved up her back and into her hair.

"Hey. Hey." He tried once more, pushing back on her shoulders. Carol sighed softly, her shoulders slumping just slightly.

"You don't want me," she murmured. "God, I…I'm embarrassed." She startled to scramble away, but Daryl instinctively grabbed her hips, holding her there. She avoided his gaze, but he gently raised his hand to her cheek and turned her face toward his.

"I want you," he whispered, his voice shaky and breathy, but it was enough, and Carol leaned into him again, kissing him fervently, her hands moving up his arms and over his shoulders, cupping his face in her hands.

"I want you," she whispered. "I need you." Her tongue was in his mouth, and his fingers dug into her hips as she grinded against his erection.

"Fuck, Carol," he grunted, hooking his thumbs through the beltloops on her pants. "I've wanted this…_you_…since…shit, I don't know when. I didn't think you wanted me."

"Was the flirting not obvious enough?" she giggled, pressing her lips against his once more before pulling back to smile at him. "Come on, I was only partly kidding that first night at the prison. Part of me wanted to get a rise out of you. The other part of me…wanted to get a _rise_ out of you." She reached between them, groping the bulge in his pants again.

"Jesus Christ," he groaned, lying back against the couch as Carol struggled to unzip his pants. "Alright, alright. Damn, woman." As Carol was about to dip her hand into his jeans, a thud from upstairs startled them both. Then the upstairs hall light turned on. Carol scrambled off of his lap, pulling her sweater off the floor, draping it over her chest just in case. Daryl struggled to stand, feeling his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. He reached for her hand, and she took it, letting him pull her up off the couch and into a dark corner as feet clomped down the stairs.

Rick muttered something in his half-asleep state, oblivious to the two hiding in the dark as he slipped down the stairs in his boxer shorts. Daryl snorted at the sight of Rick Grimes wearing the silky black boxers, and Carol nudged him in the ribs. He gave her hand a squeeze before pulling her toward the stairs, keeping an eye on the kitchen where Rick had disappeared to, making sure he didn't see them.

When they were finally upstairs, Carol started toward her room, and Daryl started toward his.

"Hey," Daryl whispered. "You comin'?" Carol spun on her heels, eyeing his bedroom door and then his face.

"I won't find any dead opossums in there, will I?"

"You might be surprised," Daryl replied with a half-grin. Carol swallowed hard and let him lead her to his room, which did, in fact, surprise her. It was clean and tidy, and the bed was well-made, and it didn't look at all like it belonged to a redneck who could gut and skin a wild animal and eat it raw if he had to. Of course, they'd all been pushed past the thresholds of what they thought they could do while out there after the turn, but still, she would never forget the sight of him clinging to that opossum tail as they walked through the gates of Alexandria for the first time.

Carol shivered when she heard the click of his door lock latching into place. Then his hands were sliding down her bare arms, taking her sweater from her hands and tossing it to the floor. She moaned, her knees trembling when he pulled her against him, kissing her neck from behind, running his hand up her stomach and over one breast. She felt a wet heat pool at her center at his newfound boldness, and she turned swiftly in his arms, crushing her breasts against his chest as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. He walked her back toward the bed, fingers fumbling with the clasp of her bra. She made a noise when the fabric snapped at her skin, and Daryl grumbled something against her neck as he worked helplessly.

"Fuckin' things," he muttered.

"Want me to?"

"I got it," he insisted, frustrated, tugging once more to finally free the clasps from each other. Carol shivered as her bra slid down her arms and to the floor, and Daryl caught sight of her breasts for the first time. She'd never been very well blessed in that department, but the way Daryl stared at them with an unmistakable heat in his gaze told her she had nothing to be ashamed of.

He took her in with his gaze, seeing her laid bare, scars, marks and all of her natural grace. She was exquisite. "C'mere." He pulled her in close, kissing the hollow of her throat, moving his hand up her bare side, palming one breast in his hand, feeling her quiver under his touch.

Her hands moved up the back of his shirt, tugging as she went, and he rolled his shoulders, lifting his arms, helping her take the shirt off of him. She sighed softly when she felt the sparse chest hair against her fingertips. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his chest and smiled when she felt him rest his chin atop her head. Her hands moved over his bare back, tracing the patterns of his whipping scars.

"Can I?"

"You don't wanna see 'em," he said quietly, moving to grip her wrists and bring them away from his back.

"Daryl, they're part of you, like mine are part of me." She stroked his cheek. Daryl nodded slowly, lowering his hands, and Carol gently moved behind him, trailing her hand against his chest and around to his back as she walked. In the dim light of the room, she saw the long scars, and, she felt him tense when she wrapped her arms around his waist, pushing herself against him, kissing him between the shoulder blades.

He was amazed at the way she seemed to be able to sooth the painful memories of the origins of those scars with the softest kisses and caresses.

Her hands moved around him, and she just hugged him from behind, resting her head against his back, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, feeling her own keeping time with his.

She stroked his stomach slowly, and he could feel the burn in his belly as the room began to spin. It wasn't the alcohol making him feel this way. It was her. It was always her. He couldn't count the times he'd felt the nerves coil in his stomach at her presence, the times he'd had to excuse himself to avoid her noticing the very physical reaction he had to her nearness sometimes. He thought back to that night in Atlanta when they both lay on the lower bunk for the briefest of moments, but it had been enough to give him a lasting memory and making sleep damned near impossible that whole night as she slept so soundly above him.

They stood together, both a little tipsy, but the blood that pounded through their veins took control. The warmth of her cheek against his back was soothing, but as her hands stroked over his stomach, his cock twitched in his pants, and he let out a soft groan. She smiled against his back, pressing a soft kiss there before she stroked downward, slipping her fingers down his pants, skimming just over the flesh above the base of his cock. His hips lunged forward, and Carol gently nipped at his shoulder.

He hadn't had a hand—besides his own—on his dick in too long, and her fingers were trailing dangerously close, and the last thing he wanted was to have it over in a few embarrassing seconds. No. He needed her to feel that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. But not like this.

He curled his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand up and out of his pants. He heard her gasp softly, and he turned, looking down into her eyes.

"Wait," he grunted, his face red, his chest heaving as he fought to maintain control of his desires.

"You don't want…"

"S'been a while," he explained. She bit her lower lip, nodding. The way her cheeks blushed made her seem almost shy, but the fact that she'd just had her hand down his pants didn't do a thing to maintain that façade. "C'mere." She followed as he led her over to the bed. She sat down first, and he gently nudged her knees apart with his leg. He watched as the flush filled her neck and her nipples hardened as he lowered himself to the floor.

"Daryl?"

"Somethin' I always wanted to do," he said with a shy ducking of his head.

"You've never?" she asked.

"But I wanna learn. I want ya to feel good."

"Oh God." Her legs shook as he popped the button on her pants. She panted softly, her soft blue eyes peering down into his. His fingers trembled, and she nodded her encouragement before she lay back against the mattress. She didn't know if it was the alcohol or the fact that she was half-naked on the bed in front of him, but she quite liked this new side of Daryl. She'd never expected him to be the one to initiate something like….like _this_. As often as she'd fantasized about it in her daydreams, she never expected it to really happen. It was Daryl. One step forward was a huge thing. It was the equivalent of six steps forward for someone else. It took her breath away.

She closed her eyes, lifting her hips and letting him work the pants down her legs. She trembled as she felt his hot breath against her thigh, and when he hooked his fingers into her panties, pulling them down and completely ridding her of the last shred of clothing on her body, he paused.

"Daryl?"

"I…" The bed shifted, and Carol gasped softly when she felt him lay down beside her, his fingers splaying out against her stomach. She turned her head to peer at him, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Daryl?" she asked again, turning toward him to stroke his cheek.

"This ain't how I thought it'd happen," he murmured, trailing his fingers down her hips in slow, torturous patterns."

"You've thought about it?"

"A thousand times," he admitted. "Can't get ya outta my damn head most days." He watched her bite her lip as her lips curled over her teeth in a grin. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her collar bone. "I love ya, woman."

"I love you too," she whispered softly, her shoulders trembling now as she fought back the urge to cry. She sniffled, stroking his cheek. He placed his hand against hers, turning it to press a kiss to the center of her palm.

"Scars and all," he murmured. She wasn't sure if it was a question, but she knew the answer.

"Scars and all," she echoed. And then his mouth was on hers, and her hands were on his back, nails gently scratching, desperately holding on, anchoring herself for this next step. She trembled as his kisses moved down her jaw and her neck and down the valley of her breasts. Her back arched when his mouth enclosed over one nipple, swirling over the pert little peak. And then his hand was sliding up her thigh, and she moaned, biting her lip as he slid one finger inside of her, finding her soaking, ready for him. He shuddered with desire, leaning his forehead against her chest, steadying himself. She smiled a little and nudged at his shoulders. He peered up at her, and she gave him a little nod.

"It's ok," she assured him. "Let me." Daryl rolled on the bed, and she moved over him, straddling his hips. Her fingers ghosted expertly over his chest, flicking lightly over his nipples before teasing down his chest. She groaned softly, noticing the way his muscles formed a V that trailed down into his pants, and she leaned down, kissing his stomach before trailing her tongue down one side of that gorgeous V. He moaned, his hips jerking involuntarily, and she smiled a little.

She shimmied off the bed, her fingers working the button of his jeans, popping it open with ease. He hissed in a sharp breath when she pulled the fabric away and his cock sprang out, hard and throbbing already, aching for touch, for release, for any fucking contact that wasn't his own goddamned hand.

He was gorgeous, long and thick, but not too big. She gently reached for him, curling her fingers around him, running her thumb over the swollen head. His head slammed back against the mattress, and he was putty in her hands. Then she let go of him, and his cock bobbed there in a frustrating moment of confusion before he realized her hands were working his pants down his legs, helping him get just as naked as she was.

In moments, her hands were on his thighs, and he was desperate for her touch. His cock jerked in front of her, and she reached out, taking him in her hand again, stroking him gently. She'd never particularly cared for this, but this was Daryl, not Ed. Every nerve in her body seemed to fire at once at the thought that she was finally with someone that loved her the way she loved him. She could break with him, because he knew how strong she truly was. He knew her.

Daryl's hips bucked upward, chucking Carol's chin when she first flicked her tongue over the head of his dick.

"Sorry," he grunted, biting his tongue, fighting the urge to let go in that moment. It had been too fucking long. He was amazed he hadn't come in his pants before they even got upstairs.

"Shh," she said softly. "Just lay back." And he did. And then her slick, wet mouth enveloped him, and he thought he might die in that moment.

"Jesus," he groaned as his body hummed at the feeling of Carol's mouth around him, her tongue doing the most wicked, delicious things he could imagine. "I ain't gonna last." She let go of him for a moment.

"It's alright. We have all night." And then she was back at it, taking him in as far as she could, and the moment he felt himself hit the back of her throat, he came, and he felt her pull back just a little, and then she was swallowing his seed, every last drop.

She crawled up his body, her eyes searching his face as she watched him come down from his high. It aroused her beyond belief to see that she'd done that for him, that he'd enjoyed it that much. She bit her lip and nuzzled his cheek with her nose.

"You ok?"

"You're amazing," he grunted. "You're…I can't…" Carol couldn't help but giggle at his lack of words, and she curled up next to him, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. Still, as she waited, her hand began to wander, and Daryl noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that she was lazily tracing her finger along her nipple, keeping the little bud firm and taut. And then he was crawling over her, kissing her breathlessly. And she panted as he boldly took her wrists in his hands and held her arms above her head, releasing her as she scooted down to rest between her thighs.

He felt her legs shaking as he gently stroked her folds, feeling her even wetter than before, slipping one finger inside, then another.

"This ok?" he asked.

"It's…oh…God. Good." Her whole body was shaking now, as he leaned forward, tasting her for the first time, running his tongue along her soft folds. She bit back a whimper, and her hands moved down her own body, gently roaming over the peaks of her breasts. He gently pumped his fingers into her, and she moved her hips slowly to match his rhythms. He used his free hand to brace against her nip as he found her swollen bud with his tongue, flicking across it, causing her to cry out. "Daryl!" He inserted another finger, and she groaned, rolling her hips as he angled up, touching nerves inside of her that hadn't had a spark in far too long. And then just as he felt a rush of wetness coat his fingers, he released her, sitting back a little, watching her fly, her breasts bouncing as her chest heaved, and he thought she'd never been more beautiful.

And as she began to relax, he placed a hand on either thigh and went in again, this time only touching her with his mouth, and he wriggled and writhed against his face, and the sounds she made were unlike any he'd imagined. They were raw, primal, filled with desire. For him. All for him. And the thought had his dick hardening again, but that would wait.

He resisted the urge to stroke himself as he loved her, and when he plunged his tongue inside of her, he figured that was a pretty good move. He'd never thought a string of expletives could sound so amazing until they came off of her lips, and he couldn't help but chuckle as he kissed his way up her body.

"You're a fast learner," she whispered, her fingers stroking his shoulder lazily as he pulled one of her legs around his hip. "You're…mmm…" The taste of herself on his lips was one of the most erotic things she'd ever experienced, and as he panted softly against her lips, she reached between them, stroking him to full hardness. "Need you now. Please…." Daryl nodded and shifted his weight, reaching into the drawer in the bedside table. He produced a small packet and opened it, quickly sliding the condom over his length. Carol giggled nervously and kissed his neck. "Someone's prepared."

"In this world?" he grunted. "Gotta be." He pushed into her in one delicious moment, and Carol gasped, gripping his arms and holding onto him as she adjusted to the feeling of him inside of her. The burn and ache warmed her all the way through. She moaned out her cries against his lips as he moved gently at first, being careful to take his time and not rush her. She wrapped her other leg around his waist, opening herself up to him, taking him completely. She gasped softly when he quickened his movements, taking longer strokes, moving inside of her, moving them together as one.

"This ok?"

"Perfect," she breathed. "Just…oh God!" She arched back as his hand dipped between them and stroked her clit, sending shockwaves through her body. And then her hands were in his hair, and his mouth was on her breasts, and he was pumping into her, his hips sliding against hers, their bodies moving together perfectly, skin against skin. His hips rolled against hers as he made love to her, and she sighed softly, arching back again as Daryl's length slid against that bundle of nerves that Ed never seemed to be able to find. It was something else completely, and as her walls fluttered around him, she felt his teeth graze her neck.

Her nails were in his back now, and her hips bucked up to urge him on.

"What do you need?" he groaned against her neck.

"Harder," she cried out, her lower lip catching against his shoulder as she suckled him there. "Fuck, Daryl!" He gripped her hips, pulling her closer, and then he slammed into her, and then she was muffling her screams against his throat, and his heart nearly burst at the thought that he was with her. _With_ her. His Carol. His.

They moved together until her release triggered his own, and he shuddered against her, slumping falling over her, spent and sated. Carol sprawled languidly across the mattress as Daryl rolled off of her and panted, staring up at the ceiling, the gravity of what they'd just done weighing on them both now.

"So that…" he breathed, reaching out, finding her hand instinctively. "That was…"

"Yeah," she whispered. "It was." Carol rolled to her side, curling up against him and grabbing for the sheet to pull over them both. "This is ok? If I stay here?"

"Yeah," he murmured, pulling an arm around her shoulder, kissing the top of her head. "Don't want ya anywhere else but here." She chuckled softly in his arms, smoothing her hand over his chest. They held each other then, silently relishing the feel of finally holding each other the way they needed to.

Daryl was the first to drift off, as she heard the softest snore coming from him. She chuckled a little, pressing a kiss to his chest. She'd never heard him snore before, but, she supposed, he might be sleeping better than he had in a very long time. She hoped so, anyway.

She linked her fingers with his, and soon, she, too, was surrendering herself to the pull of sleep.

Daryl's eyes fluttered open in the morning, and for a split second, a rush of panic surged through his veins. It was a dream. She's gone. _'Course she's gone. You think she'd ever want you if it wasn't a dream?_

He blinked into the early morning light, and that's when he felt her fingers wrapped around his. He turned his head to find her laying next to him. Sometime in the night, she'd shifted, rolling away from him, the sheet sliding down her body to expose her breasts. Her fingers were curled with his, however, and he gave them a little squeeze.

She moaned softly in her sleep, and she yawned, stretching in the bed before turning and opening her eyes to look at him. They both probably looked like hell, but to Daryl, Carol was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was mussed every which way, and her lips were slightly chapped, and she had this happy glow upon her face that warmed his heart.

"Morning," she whispered, leaning in to kiss his jaw.

"You ok?"

"I told you," she said softly, stroking his cheek with her fingertips. "I wasn't _that_ drunk." Daryl chuckled at that, and Carol bit her lip. "I don't regret a thing. Do you?"

"No," he chuckled, a grin spreading over his face. He pulled her close, kissing her, running his hands over her hips. They lay that way for a few minutes, before the sounds of activity in the house became all too noticeable. Everybody was waking up.

"How do you want to do this?" Carol asked, sitting up, pulling the sheet around herself. "We go downstairs together, or I make a mad scramble down the hallway to my room before anybody figures it out?" Despite her teasing tone, he felt a little guilty that she'd even ask him that.

"We ain't hidin'," he said quietly, running a hand over his rough cheek. He saw the smile pull at her lips then. "But I don't think ya wanna go down there wearin' my clothes."

"Oh, I don't know," she mused, pulling herself out of the bed and walking stark naked across the room to his closet. She pulled out one hanger that delicately held his angel wings vest, lovingly laundered by her just a few days ago. She pulled it off and slipped it over her shoulders, leaving it open over her breasts. Daryl felt his dick stir to life at the sight of her wearing it, and he kept his eyes on her swaying hips as she made her way back over to the bed. "Think I could pull this off?"

"Think _I _can," he muttered, pawing at it, trying to slip it off her shoulders. She giggled as his hands moved to her hips, and he pulled her back onto the bed. She straddled his hips and kissed him lovingly, as his fingers traced the lines of her body, sparking a tidal wave of heat through her veins.

And then Judith started crying down the hall. With a sigh, Carol leaned her forehead against his, and they just stared at each other for a moment. Then Carol's stomach growled, and they both fell into each other in an easy laughter.

"C'mon, let's get you somethin' to eat," he offered. Carol nodded and slid off the bed pulling off his vest and tossing it at him. He held it to his nose. She'd worn it for all of two minutes, and it smelled like her. Damn it, he would get nothing done today if he was walking around smelling like Carol. But he didn't care. His mind would be elsewhere anyway.

He watched her pull on last night's clothes and head off to her room to change into something else, while he pulled on his pants and a shirt, followed by that vest. By the time he got his boots laced up, he could hear Carol's door opening. He knew Carol's door. It was the only one with a squeaky hinge.

He was opening his door a moment later, and they met each other in the hall, both looking fresh as daisies.

"After breakfast, I'm really gonna need a shower," she murmured, linking her fingers with his. "You think you can help me with that?" He stood there, nodding like a slack-jawed idiot, and she giggled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. "You ready?" He nodded again, and she gave his hand a squeeze before leading him downstairs to join the rest of the group.

Michonne was the first to see them, and she flashed Carol a knowing smile. Carol and Daryl shared a glance, wondering if maybe the rest of the group had caught on. Maybe they were too loud. They had been a little drunk, so…

"Some party last night, huh?" Glenn asked, as Daryl and Carol rounded the table, hand-in-hand. Nobody seemed to pay any attention until Glenn nearly spat orange juice all over the table. His eyes were wide, and Daryl glared at him. Carol's cheeks flushed red, and she reached for a fresh orange to peel.

"Yeah, some party," Daryl muttered as Maggie patted her husband on the back. He sputtered, pointing like a child at Daryl and Carol until Daryl's glare muted him.

"Holy shit," Glenn muttered, as if the sight of Carol and Daryl holding hands was one of the most monumental occurrences of the apocalypse.

"Somethin' to say over there, Glenn?" Daryl asked, picking up his fork and spearing piece of bacon off of the platter in the center of the table.

"I wondered where you two got off to last night," he said with a grin.

"Yeah, well, the imagination's a pretty powerful thing. Use it," Daryl said with narrowed eyes, as Carol squeezed his knee under the table. Glenn smirked and took another sip of orange juice. Michonne moved to sit at the head of the table, clearing her throat as she poured a steaming cup of coffee. Carol glanced at her friend.

"What?"

"Nothing," Michonne said with a shrug. She eyed her. She wasn't getting off that easily. "It's just...you two didn't exactly leave much to the imagination last night." Daryl's fork clattered to the table, and his ears turned red.

"Yeah," Rick muttered, walking into the kitchen, rubbing his freshly-shaven face. "Who'd you think you were kidding? Sounded like a herd of elephants running through the house." Carol stopped mid-chew.

"You're sayin' _we_ were loud?" Daryl asked.

"I'm surprised the neighbors didn't come bang on the door," Glenn pointed out. "I just figured you got drunk and hooked up, but you come in here holding hands this morning, and…well, holy shit."

"Holy shit," Daryl muttered, glancing at Carol. She smirked and shrugged her shoulders.

"We're going to make a big deal of this?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Daryl said with a shrug.

"Glenn?" Carol asked.

"Well, I have to tell Tara. We've been making bets."

"Tell away," Carol said with a smirk. "And we'll try to be a little quieter next time."

"Next time? So this is a thing?" Glenn asked, wide eyed again. Carol looked to Daryl who gave her knee a squeeze under the table.

"Yep. It's a thing," he said with a nod. "That alright with you, Rhee?"

"Hell yeah," Glenn laughed. "It's about time!"

And the rest of breakfast was spent _not_ talking about everything that had gone on between Daryl and Carol last night, because apparently, they hadn't been as stealthy as they'd thought. Despite the bit of embarrassment at the breakfast table, nobody could deny these two were perfectly content, perfectly wrapped up in one another, perfectly happy for the first time in a very long time.


End file.
